


Double Knockout

by iluvzuzu



Series: Second by Second [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Marauders' Era, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 16:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7721272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iluvzuzu/pseuds/iluvzuzu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily becomes increasingly concerned about James's well-being after his mother's death, which closely followed his father's death. She doesn't know why, though - pity? Her attachment to broken things and obsession with putting them back together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Knockout

It happened in December. Three and a half weeks had passed since Lily had last spoken with James on any level deeper than a “pass the pumpkin juice” last Tuesday morning, but she somehow knew it happened. He was nowhere to be found, but the other three Marauders were glimpsed in the corridors whispering and looking altogether grave. Remus’s usually guarded features appeared even more so, tiny lines that weren’t usually so deep making canyons in his forehead; Peter shook as he moved, eyes unable to focus on anything before him. But Sirius was by far the worst.

“And then he just kicked him right out of class,” Mary was whispering to Lily in the middle of Defense. “Told him to go cool off. It was _terrifying._ He was making such a scene.”

“Doesn’t he always, though?” Lily whispered back, pretending to take down the notes on the board.

Mary shook her head. “Not like this. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t even clever. He was just... blown.”

“Blown?” 

Professor Billard cleared her throat and looked pointedly at the pair before returning to the chalkboard. Mary gave it a good full minute before explaining, “Black’s usually a bit of an exploding snap card, but today he’s just... well, he’s exploded. He flat-out shouted at Craneway today, telling him off for not answering questions about the war. He’s right, though. Sometimes I forget we really are at war. It’s all so far out there.”

“Hm,” Lily offered in response. _It’s getting closer, second by second._ “Something’s up with him, then?”

Mary shrugged. “He’s a troublemaker, but I’ve never seen him just ditch lessons for something other than a prank.”

“Well he’s certainly decided to skive off more than just Muggle Studies,” Lily noted under her breath. “I don’t see him around here, do you?”

Mary shook her head and averted her eyes from meeting those of an increasingly agitated Billard. “And I haven’t seen Potter all day.”

“Me either,” Lily admitted. “He wasn’t even at breakfast.”

Mary’s eyes widened at this information. “Do you think something’s happened?”

Lily hesitated only slightly before nodding. “Yes. I do.”

“Miss Evans!” Professor Billard barked. “If you and Miss Macdonald have any questions, I should ask you to raise your hands and inquire them of me, the professor of this class! If not, kindly cut the chit-chat.”

Lily and Mary both nodded obediently, abashed. Remus, two rows ahead, caught Lily’s eyes briefly, and she knew for certain. A scene flashed through her mind in which she knocked her seat over as she stood and demanded to be excused from class in order to find James and determine the state of his well-being... but she stayed planted and mentally shook herself. No time for that; time for notes. Defense Against the Dark Arts. _Here we go._

By the time all her lessons had let out for the day, Lily’s mind drifted back to her moment of insanity in Defense. She’d always been an extremely empathetic person, but this was simply getting out of hand. Potter’s recent orphanhood was no excuse for her to act as though they were suddenly friends. They weren’t. Lily’s attachment to broken things and obsession with putting them back together was something she needed to outgrow; it wasn’t healthy. Not for her, nor for the broken. Severus had proven that all too well.

Determined not to run after Potter like some sort of knight in shining armour, Lily went to the common room to start her Potions essay straight away after dinner. By that time, the whole of Gryffindor house was abuzz with the news of Ameris Potter’s passing; Lily ignored them as best she could and set to work.

Slowly but surely, everyone else vacated the common room, but Lily remained, scribbling on her parchment. However, as she wrote she often drifted off here and there, as was made clear by the inked tails falling off of her words each time it happened. She was eventually awakened from a particularly long drift by someone entering through the portrait hole.

The common room was barely lit by the dying embers of the fire in the hearth and, aside from herself and the silhouette by the entrance, empty. “Potter?” she inquired groggily, sitting up straighter. “Is that—”

“Evans,” he returned gruffly, pausing in his walk to the boys’ staircase. “Erm, yes.”

“Oh—I... It’s just, you haven’t been... all day, and I—well, you ought to get some sleep, I suppose, so I won’t keep you—”

He chuckled, but his voice was rough, raw. Making his way across the room to seat himself in the armchair opposite her, he asked, “So. What are you still doing up?”

She smiled slightly, somehow grateful that they weren’t just yet bringing up the massive manticore in the room. “Potions essay,” she returned.

“Oh, yeah, that,” he said with a snort. “Well, not due for a week, is it?”

“Four days,” she reminded him.

“That soon? Blimey.” His fingers picked at a fraying thread on the arm of his chair for several minutes, and they both watched as he pulled the seam apart. Fluff began to spill out, and Lily let it fall to the floor before repairing the chair with a wave of her wand. He exhaled sharply through his nose, smiling very slightly, and raised his hand from the chair arm to rub his eye under his glasses. “D’you reckon I’ll get away with turning it in late?” he finally spoke.

“What?” Lily asked dumbly, still watching his long fingers as they combed through his hair.

“The Potions essay,” he clarified.

She shrugged slowly. “Maybe. You’re quite charming, and Slughorn’s a sentimental bloke...”

James laughed. “You don’t think mum would like me using her death as an excuse to not do schoolwork?”

Lily didn’t know whether she thought that or not. “I think it might be a welcome distraction for you to focus on schoolwork,” she replied instead.

He nodded. “Yeah. It might.” They sat in silence as minutes ticked by; James broke open the armchair’s seam and Lily repaired it again twice more. The fire died, and James shot a quick spell at it to warm it.

“So—” she began just as he said, “You—” and they both laughed awkwardly, looking anywhere but at each other’s faces. “You first,” he said, and she inclined her head.

“I was just going to ask how you’re doing,” she said with a shrug. “Not a terribly profound conversation topic.”

“Ah,” he replied, ruffling his hair again. “Well, that’s...”

“You don’t have to, if you—”

“No, I—Well, I mean...” he cleared his throat. “I mean it’s not incredibly interesting. I’m alright, though, as far as these things go.”

“James,” she said quietly.

“What?” he sent back in a low tone, almost harshly.

She tightened her jaw. “I said it before. You can’t bottle this stuff—”

“I’m not bottling,” he insisted. “Perhaps I just don’t want to tell _you._ ”

“Oh,” she said, mortified. Of course—and why should he? “I’ll just... well, I ought to go to sleep, and you clearly want—”

“What do I want?” he interrupted. “What, clearly, do I want?”

“I don’t know!” she said, raising her voice. “I suppose you just want to be left alone and I won’t allow you to do that because I have some insane saviour complex and feel the need to butt my head into people’s lives when they’re hurting so that I can fix it and I know it’s wrong because it never ends well, and it’s especially wrong to do it to you because we’re not friends, we’re not, and you deserve better than my crazy pity!”

He took a moment, then burst out laughing. Wiping his eyes, he said, “Merlin, Evans, you _are_ mad.” Her terrified expression did not change, so he assured her, “You’re wrong, you know. About a number of things. The first of which—I don’t, you know.” She waited, and he sighed. “Want to be alone. I don’t.” Some sort of bubble burst inside her chest, spreading relief through her veins. _She knew it._

“Then why—” she began.

“You’re not the only one who tries to self-analyze and self-diagnose,” he said, shrugging. “S’pose I didn’t want...” he trailed off.

“No, please, go on,” she said earnestly. “You’ve gotten this far.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Evans...” But his smile fell, and eventually he continued, “I reckon I didn’t want to seem...well. You’ve got a saviour complex? I’ve got a hero complex. Can’t have any weaknesses. Have to be everyone’s role model. Can’t look up to a fool who’s crying over mummy and daddy, can you?”

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She settled for saying softly, “You don’t have to do that.”

“ _You_ don’t have to do _this_ !” he burst out incredulously, indicating the small space separating the two of them with only the small table between. “Merlin, what do you _want_ from me?”

She shrugged and stared at her hands, folded in her lap. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just... I want you to be okay.”

He let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “You—heavens, Evans,” he sighed, “you don’t have a savior complex. You’re just a very, very kind and decent human being.”

“Then you don’t have a hero complex,” she accused. “You’re just a generally strong person who doesn’t want to let anyone down!”

They glared at each other for a few moments. Finally, he said, “Did you just compliment me?”

“If stating facts that may portray a person in a kind light counts as a compliment, then... yeah, I guess.” The both looked down suddenly as they heard the sound of his fingers breaking the armchair’s seam again. She repaired it swiftly, not meeting his eyes. “I’m really sorry, James.”

He nodded slowly. “Thank you for saying so.”

She watched his face carefully as he gazed upon his own hands; he was picking at the scabs on his knuckles, and Lily recalled the wounds that had been there weeks ago. “It’s never going to heal if you keep picking at it,” she told him.

He looked up at her with a half-smile. “Maybe I don’t want it to heal. The ever-bleeding hands thing, makes a bloke look dangerous, yeah? Kind of a look I’m going for.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, the ladies love a man who leaves pools of bodily fluids trailing behind him.”

“Good. Means I’m on the fast broom. Tears and blood, double knockout.” Even so, he folded his hands gently in his lap and allowed himself a soft smile. But it dropped as he sighed, and he said to her, “I don’t mean to keep you up.”

“I was up anyhow,” she insisted.

“You were not!” he teased. “You looked right stupefied on top of your books.”

“I was mildly tired earlier,” she admitted. “But now I’m very clearly wide awake.”

“You’re a bloody liar, Ev, and a bad one at that. But,” he continued, “I suppose, if you’re willing, I’ll allow you to stay up and entertain my misery.”

“Hold me at wandpoint,” she said jovially.  “Potter, can I ask you something?”

“Anything in the wide universe, Lily Evans.”

She found herself biting back a smile as her cheeks grew warm. She cleared her throat and inquired, “Where... _have_ you been all day?”

The question seemed to surprise him. “Oh, you noticed?”

“Yes, classes were slightly more devoid of antics and tomfoolery today,” she said wryly, and he laughed.

“Erm... I was in Hogsmeade, actually,” he admitted.

“How on earth did you get to Hogsmeade?” she asked incredulously.

He gave a tired grin. “I happen to know a number of passages out of the castle... don’t ask me where they are, I’m sworn to secrecy. I’d have to kill you.”

“I ought to report you,” she grumbled. “But I won’t.”

“Dead mum pass?” he guessed, and she scowled.

“No,” she said, but she might have been lying. “I just don’t have any proof.”

An easy grin lifted the corners of his lips. “Ever the honorable.”

She rolled her eyes. “So what did you do? In Hogsmeade?”

“Tried to replace my bodily fluids with alcohol.”

She nodded understandingly, looking down at her own hands. “And did it work?”

He let out an involuntary bark of laughter. “Not a bit.” She felt his eyes on her, that same kind of gaze she remembered from their conversation about his father. “Did you mean it, before?” he asked hesitantly. “When you said you didn’t think you and I were friends? Only, I’ll be honest with you, Ev, this feels quite a bit like friends.”

She sighed, smiling against her will. “I _suppose_ we _might_ be slightly friendlier than we have been in the past,” she allowed.

“I’ll take it,” he said. She yawned widely, and he looked a bit guilty. “It’s late,” he began.

“I’m fine,” she returned. “Tomorrow’s only Friday. My schedule’s not too heavy.”

“Why?” he asked.

She stared. “Erm... because... I picked a number of classes that... didn’t hold lessons on Fridays?”

He made a grand gesture of rolling his eyes. “I meant... why do you keep insisting on staying with me? Is it really all pity? I can handle it, I’m a grown man.”

She shrugged gingerly. “You said you didn’t want to be alone.” James didn’t respond; he simply watched her with that infuriating expression. “What?” she demanded.

He looked almost startled for a moment, but then relaxed back into his armchair and smiled tightly. “You’re being so kind to me I’ve forgotten that my mum’s gone.”

Lily’s chest panged. The circles under his eyes were barely noticeable in the once again dying fire light. “James,” she said, feeling entirely helpless.

“It’s _alright_ , Lily,” he assured her softly, leaning forward and looking into her eyes. His jaw was set, his eyes serious. He gave a small sigh, then said, “You’ve done more than enough for me tonight.”

She nodded numbly. “If there’s _anything_ more I can do—” she paused, mentally cringing at her emphasis on the word—honestly, what on earth was she doing?—“just… I mean, I’m happy to… you know.”

He was smiling, clearly holding back from making fun of her for stumbling over her words. “Thank you.”

They sat in silence for a very long time. James relit the fire once more. Lily noticed he was picking at neither the armchair seam nor his scabbed knuckles. He simply sat, staring in the flames, looking altogether exhausted. Lily opted to continue working on her essay. She saw in her peripheral that he’d noticed her scribbling away, but he didn’t say anything. The fire flickered on, and eventually Lily heard James’s breathing slow. She looked up and smiled, watching him sleep soundly in his armchair. Maybe helping the broken (or the slightly bruised and banged-up) wasn’t such a death wish after all.

She next awoke with her head on her books and a lock of hair in her inkpot. Dawn was breaking outside the common room window, and she swore quietly as she used her wand to siphon the ink out of her hair and back into the bottle in front of her. James was still asleep in his chair, and Lily was, for some reason, relieved; he’d looked like he’d needed the sleep.

She packed up her things and went to put them back in her dormitory. Careful not to wake the other girls, she set them down beside her bed and grabbed one of the knit blankets her mother had given her. She tiptoed back downstairs and draped it gently over the sleeping James Potter.

She then crept back up to the girls’ rooms in order to catch perhaps an extra half hour of sleep in her bed before she needed to be at breakfast. All in all, she thought, it was rather worth it. She did hope, however, that she’d eventually get her blanket back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope to continue this series in the future, so if you liked it please keep an eye out!


End file.
